


purple bruises (you always loved to accessorize)

by ElasticElla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Background Relationships, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/F, Horror, Mild Gore, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 00:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Cedric isn’t the champion Cho’s been falling in love with.





	purple bruises (you always loved to accessorize)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madeinessos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinessos/gifts).

> so uh remember how you said “I'm so sad I won't be around for the horror flash fic exchange” in chat? whelp i upgraded this from some horror to Horror, hope you like it, but no worries if it isn’t your cup of tea ^.^

Cho isn’t a romantic. Or more accurately, she doesn’t have the time to be. She’s been in love once before, knows how all-consuming it can be. She feels with every bit of herself, is sure it’s part of being an artist. Her very first crush, Angelina Johnson, caused her to miss catching the snitch (unfortunate), and to be distracted enough during a Care practical to get an acceptable (inexcusable). 

So when the most gorgeous girl in the world steps into Hogwarts, magical butterflies in her wake, and sits across from her, there’s only one thought going through Cho’s mind:

_Fuck_. 

.

Cho must have saved a ton of orphan children in her last life, because Fleur decides Cho is the best person to show her around Hogwarts. As the clear front runner to become the Beauxbatons champion, it isn’t surprising how brilliant Fleur is. 

Fleur catches her sketching the goblet at breakfast, questions her on artistic magic for the next ten minutes and has a better understanding of the theory than her own mother. (She loves her mum, she does. She’s just a bit helpless when it comes to theory, or maybe Cho’s a terrible explainer.) Then they’re talking about charms-transfiguration double spells, deep enough into conversation that Flitwick gives Ravenclaw two points for ‘international cooperation’. (Her first year Cho realized Flitwick doesn’t give Ravenclaws direct points for academic discussions based on material outside of class, doubtlessly got into an argument with the other heads of houses about it.)

Fleur grins at her, bright as the stars, a swan note fluttering to her desk as Flitwick starts the day’s lecture. 

‘You must show me this spell blue that has such properties.’ 

Cho nods, and fights to pay attention for the rest of class. (She could reach out and touch Fleur, bets her fingertips would melt off like touching a sun.)

.

Fleur is declared a champion, and Cho tries not to think about the tournament’s previous death toll. She’s clearly failing though, as she animates the painting of the forest, and a baby thestral is weaving between the trees. 

With a sigh, she puts away her oils, pulls out the potions essay. That at least can’t taunt her. Directly that is. (‘Draught of Peace Chang, something you could doubtlessly use right now if you didn’t mangle the brewing as your clumsy hands usually do.’)

Fleur joins her a few hours later, and they relocate to the top of Ravenclaw tower, up on the roof. It’s the best star gazing spot in all of Hogwarts, and Fleur is reluctantly impressed. (Cho can’t blame her, is sure if the situation were reversed she’d be missing Hogwarts and not finding Beauxbatons enough.)

.

“You be careful,” Cho says, and Fleur tosses her hair over her shoulder. 

“Oui, zee blood of ma mere- eet will work.” But Fleur doesn’t look as confident as her words, and Cho’s stomach spins. There’s a thrice-damned dragon waiting and she wants to whisk her to a land far, far away.

Cho kisses her for luck, and all too soon, Fleur has to leave for the Champions’ tent.

It doesn’t work. 

The theory was sound, of Fleur’s veela heritage being avian and fiery enough for the dragon to recognize it. Or maybe it works too well, as dragon fire envelops Fleur the moment she touches the egg. 

Cho screams. 

She isn’t the only one, and there’s a swarm of people going into the field, dragon tamers subduing the beast and healers hurrying Fleur away to a tent. Cho’s feet carry her there, bile rising up her throat when she sees how charred Fleur is, not a centimeter of unblemished skin anywhere. 

She’s certain Fleur’s dead, tears slipping down her face, and then: her eyes crack open. 

(Skeeter, the absolute bitch, has the nerve to write a story about a foolhardy veela that relied too heavily on her charms, deserved what she got and was only saved by her dirty creature blood.)

.

Harry Potter asks her to the Yule Ball, and Cho’s so surprised she doesn’t respond quickly. She’s gotten used to getting dirty looks in the hall, it feels like everyone knows she’s cavorting with 'the enemy' Delacour. Or maybe Potter doesn’t give much credence to the rumor mill, given all it’s put him through. 

“Sorry Harry, Fleur and I are going together.”

“Oh. Right, that’s um, brilliant.” 

She knows Diggory is taking Padma, and the idea of almost all champions bringing a Ravenclaw tickles her enough to say, “Luna would make for an interesting date.” 

Harry smiles after an awkward pause, tension dropping from his shoulders. “Yeah. Thanks Cho.” 

(He does take Luna, and a week later, Fleur is spinning Cho around the dance floor, euphoria bubbling in her veins.)

.

Fleur drowns in her arms, and Cho is fairly certain she just solved the medical mystery of how the girl survived dragon fire, the first person to ever do so. Namely- she didn’t. 

For when Cho swims her to the surface, Fleur’s heartbeat suddenly starts up again. 

“I, zere- I was not ‘ere.” 

“It’s okay, let’s get you back to shore, get you warm. It’s okay.” 

Fleur doesn’t let go of Cho’s hand all day, only holds her closer at night. Cho is grateful, terrified of the implications. 

(She created a goddess. For what else survives so?)

.

A hedge _eats_ Cho’s girlfriend, and she’s afraid the third time will be the charm. That the other wizards will wisen up to Fleur's immortality, or worse, that it won’t bring her back. 

Cho is imagining increasingly more terrible fates- is up to the Unspeakables experimenting on Fleur forever- when the girl walks out of the maze. She’s worse for wear, covered in dirt and streaks of blood, but none of that matters. 

She’s _alive_.

Her miraculous return from the homicidal hedges is ignored as Potter portkeys back, and Cho takes Fleur away to her dorm. 

Fleur doesn’t remember what happened in the maze, and Cho takes her to the kitchens first for some hot chocolate. Later, they’ll hear about the death eater that was teaching them all year, and Cho comes to the bitter conclusion that he must have obliviated Fleur. (The only silver lining is a dementor’s kiss, whatever the bastard learned about Fleur is lost forever.)

.

The day before Fleur is to leave, Cho skips all of her classes. Along with a picnic basket, they fly out of Hogwarts, to the nearest mountain top for their date in the sun. The weather is perfect, not that rain would have stopped either; they’ve already been caught as such, cold wet giggly kisses followed by a steamy bath. 

But in the sun, they dance and sing and eat and not a moment is wasted. Tomorrow is goodbye, and neither girl allows themselves to consider what it may mean, a problem for the future- not for the miraculous now. 

By the time they fly back to Hogwarts, the sun has long set, the air is chilly, and there’s a ring of purple bruises around Cho’s neck. (Proof, she can’t help but think, that this isn’t an elaborate fever dream.)

.

The morning Fleur is to leave, Cho runs back to her dorm room. Somehow she forgot her going away present, a pair of silver earrings that warm when your lover thinks of you, could have sworn she put them in her bookbag. (Like all decent jewelry, it’s charmed against summoning.) 

The sight that greets her drives all other thoughts from her mind: Fleur is on her bed, covered in blood. 

“Hell, are you okay?” Cho asks, whipping her wand out. A cleaning charm later, it’s definitely not her blood, and Cho can breathe, yanks the curtains around her bed shut in case anyone comes up. 

“Fleur what happened?” 

She bites her lip, “I do not know. I- my memory eet- I do not. 'ogwarts, zee wards would not allow zis, no?” 

Prior Incantato doesn’t help, echoes of summoning and banishing spells, of packing and cleaning. 

Cho swallows, doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t trust the teachers not to jump to the wrong conclusions, doesn’t want to leave Fleur alone to search for whatever- _whoever_\- lost so much blood.

“What do you want to do?” she finally asks. 

Fleur kisses her, and Cho knows there are important things to be done, but Fleur is kissing her and rationality floats out the window. 

.

She finds Fleur floating face down in the Great Lake. A quick spell later, and she’s on shore, choking up dirty water. Cho pats her back, calms her racing heart. 

“You’re okay,” she breathes, ready to collapse, sitting is too much energy. 

Fleur is confused for a moment, and then gripping her hand tightly. “You can not- you must stay with me always.”

Cho kisses her temple, “I’m yours.” 

.

A Fidelius later, and Fleur Delacour is no more. It hurts to do, but her parents have been asking too many questions and Fleur’s lost her memories of them. To allow them, or anyone, to remember- she won’t put Fleur in danger like that. 

The secret is warm in her chest, heavy and always felt. 

(She doesn’t tell Fleur the secret. Cho’s become greedy in her old age, doesn’t wish to risk how that magic might effect Fleur’s mind in either direction. She hasn’t forgotten Cho, and if she has her way, she never will.)

A Fidelius later, and Cho’s getting overconfident with the spell, they have a cabin in a valley, surrounded by mountains. There’s a river a few hundred meters away, and it’s the most beautiful empty place Cho could find. (Every year or so, Fleur rediscovers where they live. Loves it each time, eyes sparkling with wonder.)

.

The memory gaps are getting bigger. Cho can’t figure out how to fix them, and they get worse every time Fleur dies. (Which is easier every time her memory weakens.)

What is the point of magic- of knowledge- if she can’t even save her love’s mind?

There are never bodies, but Fleur still finds ways to disappear sometimes, returning home with a stranger’s blood. Cho’s terrified one of these nights, Fleur will forget her way home. It’s not the right fear, she knows that, but she also knows she’d let Fleur destroy the world as long as she came home to her. (An unsettling thought, when did her morals become so immaterial? The answer is loud and clear, and she hates it.)

.

Rita Skeeter is declared missing, and Cho viciously thinks, _good_. 

.

Fleur isn’t aging. 

It’s something Cho has long suspected, and can no longer ignore. One day, Fleur will be alone in the world, with no memory and blood on her lips and ashes in her clothes and- will she be lonely? Will she remember her enough to feel that way? Or will her deteriorating memory be a blessing, allowing Fleur to simply follow her id.

It does no good to worry over the inevitable. There was a time Cho could have ended this, perhaps. (Perhaps not, she always did fall in love too quickly.) She can’t do it now, the book long destroyed where she found the spell. She isn’t nearly brilliant enough to reconstruct the whole thing. (Moreover, even if she _is_, she isn’t willing to try.)

“You zink too ‘ard,” Fleur complains playfully, pulling her outside into the sun and fresh air. 

Cho smiles, kisses back when Fleur kisses her. 

.

-

.

Fleur is facing a dragon in less than five hours when Cho finds the spell. It’s an ancient Babylonian charm to prevent burning, and maybe it isn’t _technically_ legal. Another person has to cast it, but it won’t show up on any modern magical scans. (And it isn’t like the judges are requiring a three day purification ritual before each task, the only way it’d be discovered.)

Fleur is sleeping, and Cho isn’t willing to take a risk. Fleur is facing a bloody dragon tomorrow- later today- she isn’t leaving her survival up to chance. 

Cho practices the spell a dozen times on a piece of parchment, and even with magical flames licking all around, it doesn’t burn. She turns her wand to Fleur, firmly holding the image in mind of an indestructible girl.

“Gir-” Cho sneezes, hurriedly corrects, “Giruia Hisnu!”


End file.
